


Future Plans

by jungle_ride



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Pilots, Plans For The Future, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25792183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: They were never supposed to meet. Svetlana and Nancy were from two very different worlds. Under normal circumstances the women would have lived apart, their paths never to entwine. Theirs had been a meeting of chance; a result of war. Nancy's not sure it's entirely ethical to feel grateful for this war, but she can’t help it. The war is what made them possible.“No, kotyonok it was fate.”  Svetlana tells her whenever she brings it up.
Relationships: 1940s W.A.S.P Pilot/1940s Russian Night Witches Pilot, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Original Works Opportunity 2020





	Future Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nsmorig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsmorig/gifts).



They were never supposed to meet. Svetlana and Nancy were from two very different worlds. Under normal circumstances the women would have lived apart, their paths never to entwine. Theirs had been a meeting of chance; a result of war. Nancy's not sure it's entirely ethical to feel grateful for this war, but she can’t help it. The war is what made them possible. 

“No, kotyonok it was fate.” Svetlana tells her whenever she brings it up.

Nancy's not sure if she believes in fate. She’s not sure she believes in anything that isn’t flesh and blood, but Nancy likes the way Svetlana says it. The certainty in her voice, the sureness in her eyes, it makes Nancy's heart swell in her chest as a warm liquid honey flows through her. Nancy might not know if she believe's in fate, but she's sure of Svetlana. So Nancy doesn't argue with her. Instead she smiles and snuggles in closer, purring into Svetlana’s neck, acting up to the nickname Svetlana has given her. Kotyonok. Kitten. 

Whenever it had been fate or just happenstance, it mattered not. Either way they had been brought into each other's obits. Svetlana, on another mission in her Polikarpov Po-2, had come into a mishap, as she called it. This mishap had left 42 bullet holes in her converted 1920s crop-duster and had forced Svetlana to make an emergency landing. The trouble for Svetlana was the nearest base had been american, and whilst they were technically allies, it was no secret that there was little love shared between the two countries. With little choice, the plane would never have made it to the Russian base and as Night Witches were not permitted parachutes, radar or radio equipment, Svetlana had headed for the safest option. 

Nancy remembers that night vividly. She had flown in a B-26, earlier that day and had been sitting outside her tent still dressed in her uniform taking in the peacefulness of the night. Although the basses did have a barrack for the few females on the base, nurses and such, Nancy had always preferred solitude. She had received a few odd looks from the staff sergeant when she had told him that if it wasn’t too much trouble she would prefer to stay in one of the empty tents, but in the end he had shrugged as if to say suit yourself. 

It had taken Nancy a few minutes to realise that the strange shadowy figure hovering in the night sky, tilting and swaying erratically was in fact a bi plane. Bi planes were not a common sight, and therefore Nancy knew immediately that the plan belonged to a Night Witch. When the realistion had finally dawned on her, the alarm had already been sounded. 

Svetlana had flown with grit and determination, wrestling her little coffin with wings and landing with such skill that when she finally came to a stand still on the tarmac, all the male pilots had erupted in cheers. They had clapped Svetlana on the back as she jumped out of the cockpit smiling and laughing, their divisions forgotten in the face of pure skillful flying. 

Nancy who had watched the landing, her blood vibrating with exhilaration had wanted nothing more than to meet the female pilot. She had heard stories of the Night Witches, how could she not, being a female pilot herself. Nancy had been in awe of the tales of the women who flew in combat missions and decorated their planes in flowers. The pilots who only had rudimentary tools and used their navigation pencils as lip color.

Svetlana had been surrounded however, the Colonel making his way to see what the hell was going on. Svetlana had saluted the Colonel and begun to exchange words with the man. The way in which they were conversing, had told Nancy long before they would exchange their first words, that Svetlana spoke English and spoke it well. That had surprised Nancy, and thrilled her. It meant she could actually gain the answers to her questions. 

However, Nancy, always the outcast, had never felt more out of place on the airfield than in that moment. So instead of giving into her desire, she stayed back, watching eagerly from the sidelines. Svetlana, though, Svetlana had seen her. Through the crowds, steely blue eyes had met warm brown and well that had been that. 

A lot had changed since that first night, which can be attested by the fact that Svetlana was now lying in her bed, stripped down to her underwear with her back propped up against the metal as she smoked casually from a cigarette. It had been a swift progression. They’d moved from tentative acquaintances to lovers, to, well to _lovers_ in the short time it had taken for Svetlana’s plane to be fixed, which is to say no time at all, but if war had taught them anything, it was that time should not to be wasted.

“We feel what we feel, so why deny it. We could be dead tomorrow.” Svetlana had said, accent thick and heavy, before she’d claimed Nancy’s mouth with her own. Nancy couldn't argue with that logic and she hadn’t wanted to. So she’d kissed her back and kept on kissing her until her mouth was swollen from the effort. 

Svetlana had somehow convinced the powers that be, that she should be a go between the two allied forces and somehow had found a way to ensure that her schedule matched Nancy's. Meaning wherever Nancy flew to make her deliveries, Svetlana was always there. Nancy doesn't know how she did this and Svetlana didn’t like to discuss it, so Nancy is sure that it involved something unpleasant, but she's grateful all the same. 

However, Nancy can’t help but wonder now that the war is winding down, the allies processing further to victory every day, what it will mean for them. It’s been troubling her for some time now, but tonight is the first time she’s been brave enough to say something. 

“What’s going to happen to us?” She says softly, head resting on Svetlana’s shoulder. 

“What do you mean?” Svetlana says, glancing down at her. Nancy sighs, turning her head to bury her face into Svetlana’s neck and breathe in her scent trying to commit it to memory. Just in case she never gets the chance again. 

“We both know this war is coming to an end and when it does I’m expected to go back to American and you’re supposed to go back to Russia.” Nancy mumbles, her words vibrating against the delicate skin of Svetlana's collar bone leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Svetlana reaches up to cup her chin, gently guiding her head back up so their eyes meet. 

“Expected, yes.” Svetlana says pointedly, holding her gaze. Nancy falters, her mouth going slack. Svetlana takes this as an opportunity to capture her mouth with her own. The kiss is soft, lips moving gently against each other, slow and smooth. It’s a dance they’ve danced many times and Nancy finds comfort in the familiarity, a reassurance. 

When Svetlana pulls back she’s looking at Nancy intently. Her blue eyes shining in the moonlight. Nancy notices a glimmer in her gaze, a flash of something; resolve. As if it wasn't until this very moment that she’d cemented the plan, she’s obviously been concocting. Damn sneaky Russian Nancy thinks with great fondness. 

“You’re coming to America?” Nancy breathes hesitantly. It doesn't sound right. Nancy can’t really imagine Svetlana in a world of stripes and stars. When Svetlana shakes her head and kisses her again, this time just a quick press of contact, it’s almost a relief until confusion begins to cloud Nancy’s mind again.

“Lana, I can’t move to Russia.” Nancy says, a little worried now. Svetlana laughs, and pulls Nancy closer. 

“No kotyonok. Russia is not to be our home.” Svetlana smiles wryly, kissing the top of her forehead. 

“I don’t understand.” Nancy says, eyebrows knitting together as she tries to decipher Svetlana’s cryptic words. 

“Parlez-vous Français?” Svetlana quips and a light bulb goes off in Nancy’s head. 

“France! But it’s a mess over there, they’ve only just gotten out of occupation.” 

“Exactly!” Svetlana smiles, taking Nancy’s hand in hers and intertwining their fingers. 

“What better place to start to build a life than alongside everyone else who’s doing the same.” She concludes. Nancy thinks about it for a moment, absentmindedly interlacing their fingers in and out and watching the way the light bounces off their skin. She imagines them both somewhere in rural France, near open spaces and land, sees them in among the rubble of the cities, in a cafe on a street corner. Svetlana lifts their joined hands to her mouth and brushes her lips over Nancy’s knuckles. 

Nancy stirs from her thoughts, her gaze returning to Svetlana’s face. The slow burn of anxiety that had been growing in the pit of her stomach at their impending separation fades away into nothing. She smiles, bright and wide before saying. 

“I have always wanted to see the Eiffel tower.”


End file.
